The Last Laugh
by LordAdamant
Summary: When faced with monumental change, even a monster of a man rethinks himself. Just a what-if one-shot I wrote off a random idea out of boredom and as an attempt to break out of my writer's block.


"Unbelievable!"

Joker shouts in rage as he enters the warehouse he and Harley call home this week. "That was an easy job, but you HAD to screw it up!" Harley grabs her arm, frowning and looking down. "But NOOOO you just had to stop to pet the dog. IT'S JUST A DOG!"

"It was a cute dog, and he was tied up, and I had to set him free!" she argues, swiftly covering her mouth. "Mr. J, Puddin, I'm s-sorry, I- Aah!" She shouts as the Joker slaps her, causing her to fall.

"Enough of your whining." He stops as he sees Harley begin to cry. "Oh, and now the waterworks start. You have something you want to say to me? Well guess what, here's your chance. I'll let you say whatever you have on your mind."

Harley sniffles, sitting up. Suddenly, she clenches her fists, standing up. "You wanna know what's on my mind!? Ever since I busted you out of Arkham that day you've been walking all over me! I do everything in my power to make you happy. I gave up a well-paying job as a psychiatrist to bust you out and join you! And ever since I've done EVERYTHING for you! I wash your clothes, cook your meals, clean up bodies. I've KILLED people for you!" She's crying now, tears flowing freely as years of pain find their way out. "And what thanks have I got? NOTHIN'! You shout at me, you hurt me, you treat me like shit!"

She stands there, eyes closed, fists clenched, holding back sobs. Joker is honestly surprised, having never seen this kind of reaction from her. "And you know what? Because of all that, I've honestly considered not even telling you about being pregnant!" She stops, eyes wide, covering her mouth again.

The Joker freezes, staring at Harley in confusion. "W-what?!"

Harley sniffles and sighs, turning away and crossing her arms. "That's why I've been sick the past couple mornings. The other day while you were in your study I got the test. It came back positive." Joker looks down, unable to speak. Harley looks at him scared, reaching out to him. "Puddin?"

"Go. Go to Pamela's, go away, just get out of here." His voice isn't angry, it's dull.

"What? Why?" She reaches out to him but her steps back.

"Just go. I need... I need time to think."

Harley stares at him and starts crying again. "Fine!" She storms out, leaving the Joker to his thoughts.

O

Some time later, elsewhere in the city, Batman is cleaning up a robbery. As the last thug falls, he stands, rolling his wrist. "Master Bruce," Alfred says into his communicator. "Shall I prepare dinner?"

"Yes, Alfred, I don't think anything else is going on tonight." As he cuts off communication, sarcastic clapping sounds from behind him. He turns around, batarang drawn, to see the Joker. "Joker!"

"Hello, Bats. Uh uh uh," he intones, wagging his finger. "Wouldn't want me to drop this, would you?" He holds up a detonator, thumb pressed. "Deadman's switch, you know the deal." Batman stands, scowling.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, just to have a little chat." He laughs at his adversary's look of confusion. "What do you say we take this somewhere more...comfortable?" He turns around, leading the way to an abandoned building, into a room with two chairs. Along the way, Bruce notices something...off with the Joker, but can't pin it down. Once inside, Joker stands by the window, hands behind his back, detonator in sight. "I know you don't trust me. Why would you? I've been causing mayhem in this city for years. Hmm, how about a show of good faith?" He turns back around, letting his thumb off the trigger. "It was never connected to anything, but I knew I had to get your attention."

Batman scowls, staring at his nemesis. "All to talk?"

Joker nods, sitting down, his smile fading. "Yes, to talk." His enemy looks on in awe as he slowly changes, his demeanor growing calm. "Listen, Bruce." This confuses him. Despite knowing who he is, the Joker never uses his name. "I...need some advice." And in that moment, Bruce sees something in his greatest foe that he had never seen before: Humanity.

Very slowly, Bruce pulls back his cowl and sits down across from him. "Alright."

Joker sighs, smiling softly. "Well... Today, Harley and I had that heist go bad because she stopped to let a dog go. I was...angry, and when we got back I let loose on her. It wasn't any different from usual, but she started to cry. That just made me angrier." Bruce watches as the Joker clenches his hands a moment before relaxing. "So I told her that if she had anything she wanted to say, now was the time. And my dear Harley, she took that chance." He chuckles softly. "Told me about how much of a piece of shit I am, about how she does so much and I'm a terrible person. Oh, but the kicker was what she said after that." He looks up then, and Bruce can't decipher his expression. "She said she was pregnant."

Bruce looks at him in shock, at this point with no clue what to expect from the clown. "Joker, you didn't-?"

"Hurt her? Oh no, not at all. I told her to leave, go to Ivy's while I thought things over. And well, I realized something. … Bruce, that newest Robin of yours, your son." Bruce flinches, surprised at this. "Oh, don't be so surprised. You have the same jaw, even I can see that. But what I want to ask is... Bruce, I'm not a good man. We both know that. I'm...a monster. But, if nothing else..." He looks down, and Bruce waits for his next words. "If nothing else, I want to say I am a good father."

Joker looks up, and the sincerity on his face convinces Bruce. "I know how you feel. … I haven't done my best with my son, but I've learned a few things."

For the next hour, the Joker and Batman sit down, no more masks, and talk about what it takes to be a good father. They're interrupted when Alfred contacts him again. "Master Bruce? Is everything alright? We expected you back almost an hour ago."

"I'm fine, Alfred. Just...having a talk with an old friend."

"Oh, can we expect this friend for dinner?"

"No, I think he has things to do. I'll be home soon."

Joker sighs, smiling. "Well, I guess that's that. This was a nice chat."

"Yes, it was." They stand, donning their masks, Batman's cowl, the Joker's smile.

"Things will be like they were before the next time we meet, you know that, right, Bats?" Batman nods, looking at his age-old foe in a different light. "Well, until then..." The Joker extends his hand. "Thank you." Batman looks at him seriously for a moment, and Joker holds his hand up, showing it's empty. After a moment, Batman reaches out, and the two shake hands for the first and possibly last time.

O

An hour later, inside the warehouse, the Joker looks down at his phone, making his decision. He dials a number, and the voice on the other side responds with venom. "Joker! What do you want?"

"I need to talk to her."

"No way, not after what you did to her. You learned she was pregnant and threw her out! You don't deserve her."

"Pamela, let me speak to her. … Please." That word stops her short, especially when she realizes he used her name. "Tell her it's...a therapy session."

"... Alright. Harley!" she calls out, and after a moment he can hear the phone shifting hands.

"Mr. J?

"Listen, I've thought long and hard about what you said, and I've come to a decision. … Harleen. I'm sorry." She gasps, both at hearing her real name and hearing the Joker...apologize. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you. I'm not a good man. I'm not the man you deserve. But, starting now, that changes. I want to be a man that's worthy of being the father of your children."

In Pamela's apartment, Harley starts to cry, covering her mouth. Pamela looks on, worried. "Puddin... Are you... Are you serious?"

"Yes, Harley, for once in my life, I am serious. Come home."

"Yes, Mr. J, yes." She smiles, and as they hang up Pamela looks at her oddly.

"What happened? He was nice when we talked, he used my name."

Harley nods, looking up. "He said... He said he was sorry." Pamela gasps in surprise.

Back in the warehouse, the Joker sets his phone down, grabbing his chest. "I feel...different."

O

A week later finds the Bat and the Joker facing off like usual. The Joker laughs, holding a gun to a hostage's head. Robin is there this time, staring at the Joker with hatred. The hostage starts to beg, but a line seems to get to him.

"Please, don't kill me! I have three kids at home!"

Batman notices the subtle change in the Joker's expression as he looks down at the man, kneeling and pleading. With a short yell, he brings his gun down on the back of the man's neck, knocking him out. He glances up at Batman and grins. "What, not like I was going to put his kids out of the misery of having such a miserable man for a father." With that, he throws down a smoke pellet and leaves, Robin trying to follow.

"Robin, stop! There are more important things to worry about."

"But-!"

"Who did he hurt?" Bruce asks his son, an important realization there. Unlike before, no one got hurt. No Joker gas, no explosions, little more than scrapes.

Over the next year, Bruce notices a clear decline in both the severity and the frequency of the Joker's attacks. One day, the Batman is called in by GPD. The Joker is holed up in a building with a WMD. Batman goes in, and as he walks up the stairs he gets a feeling similar to the one he'd been having with every one of their recent encounters.

In the room, Batman notices there's a crate, a chair, and the Joker, perched on the crate. "Bruce, it's nice to see you." He pushes back his cowl and sits down across from his foe. His expression is soft, smiling, but not his usual smile. "Tell me, how's the boy wonder? And your protege?"

"They're doing fine. Damian wanted to come, but I told him to stay. Dick was concerned, but he trusts me."

Joker nods, looking away. "Damian... That's a nice name. Strong. And I've seen just how strong he is. … Bruce, I know you've seen how I've...changed. I have a gift for you, actually." He hops off the crate and opens it, revealing a simple basket, adorned with a single blue bow. "Now, I think I'll...call it a day. The end of a long, long day..." He laughs then, his laugh, but there's none of the malice that usually fills it. A moment later, and an explosion can be heard a block away. "Oh, Bruce, I never took you for the sentimental type. … Thank you, and good luck." And with that, he left.

Back at the mansion, Alfred looks at the Basket in confusion. "Master Bruce? Where did you get that basket?"

"It's nothing, Alfred." He takes it to his room, setting it down on a bare dresser.

A couple months later finds Bruce sitting before his computer, looking at statistics. Damian walks up, scowling. "The Joker has to be up to something. He's been too quiet."

"No, I don't think he's up to something. Seems to me he's done."

"Why do you say that?"

"No reason." Upstairs he retires to his room, looking at the basket. In its bottom sits a blank envelope. There is no stamp, no address, no name. The letter inside is addressed to no one and signed by no one, not a name is mentioned, but Bruce knows who it's from.

 _"I felt the need to write this. I felt it needed to be said._

 _Today, we holed up in our personal clinic, only a friend to act as the midwife. She was in so much pain, and she was crying, but she kept saying it would be worth it. So I stood with her, held her hand, and after hours of pain, my son was born. At that moment...I was irrevocably changed. I saw, then, the type of man I could be. I looked down at her and smiled, my beautiful wife. I handed her our son, and I looked at her._

 _'I know,' she said. 'Go ahead, tell him. I understand.'_

 _I kissed her cheek and left. I found you, and I said my goodbyes. I'm a new man now._

 _I guess you could say that was my last laugh."_

"Master Bruce?" Alfred called from the door. "Things have been quiet. Why don't you take Damian to that amusement park? It would do you two some good."

"You know what, I think you're right. I'll tell him."

A couple hours later and father and son walked through the amusement park, eating cotton candy and enjoying themselves. Damian is calmer than he's been since they first started working together, more like a kid than ever before.

Suddenly, they're distracted by a voice calling out, one only Bruce recognizes. Nearby, a tall man with brown hair and tanned skin—Bruce notices the traces of dye and makeup—arms raised to the sky as he proclaims, "He called me Daddy!" Beside him stands a slight, pretty blond woman holding a baby in her arms. He laughs, a laugh full of joy, not madness. And as he lowers his fists, their eyes meet. Nothing is said, but the man smirks, and after a moment is lost in the crowd.

Damian notices the look on Bruce's face. "Who was that?" Bruce turns around, putting his arm around his son's shoulders as they walk away.

"Just an old friend."


End file.
